


running with the thieves

by removedhergrace



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: (some) Epistolary, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-05-31 21:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15128255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/removedhergrace/pseuds/removedhergrace
Summary: don’t answerSent 11:18pm, 4.25.18meet me in phoenix.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [poppyseedheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyseedheart/pseuds/poppyseedheart) in the [PuckingRare2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PuckingRare2018) collection. 



> **Prompt:**   
> 
>
>> Auston's post-season ended early, and Jack's never even started.
>> 
>> When Jack gets a text the night the Leafs get knocked out that just says _meet me in Phoenix_ , he doesn't think about it, he just books a flight and goes.
> 
> \- 
> 
> this is a work of fiction, based solely on the public personas of two folks and is not meant to depict real life. if you know any of the individuals depicted in this work, please click somewhere else 
> 
> title from harry styles' _meet me in the hallway_

Jack leans forward, bracing his hand on the club to survey the green. He straightens and takes a short, calming breath in and then brings the club forward. He watches the ball roll over a slight divot and wind its way past a dilapidated windmill before it careens into the hole. Jack drains his beer in celebration, contraband nestled in a nondescript koozy, a weak attempt to mirror the cans of soda the other patrons can purchase from the concessions stand. 

Absolutely yes, Jack assures himself, the most absurd part of this venture is the mental backflips he executed in the uber, justifying day drinking at mini golf, killing time before his flight. Not one thing about the situation itself, messy, maybe beyond the hope of reconciliation, is worse than what local celebrity Jack Eichel does in his depressing free time. 

While the mini-golf bender ranks miles lower on a scale of dignity than binge drinking at a bar in the airport, it’s less likely that Jack’s recognized and less likely he’s approached. Jack’s smile tightens into a grimace at the thought of entertaining anyone’s inquiries at the airport, drunk at a bar less than twelve feet from his gate, facing a fan’s attempts to commiserate over another failed season.

It would likely take one pointed comment, mixed together with polite smalltalk with up-and-coming failed NHL superstar Jack Eichel, for him to let slip his plans or leak something tantalizingly private, and therefore newsworthy, a mistaken disclosure. 

The text from Auston, ignored, burns heavy in his pocket.

 

Jack debates using his last on-ground data to purchase inflight wifi when a second message comes through, as clipped as the first: an address, a room number. It joins the first message, clustered below an unanswered message, outgoing from weeks ago. 

He shoots back a picture of his ticket, blurry but for the flight detail, before thumbing back the airplane mode button. When the stewardess walks by after take off, cruising thirty thousand feet, fasten seatbelt sign blinking softly, Jack thanks God for first class, for the infrequent anonymity that having a shit season brings, and orders two drinks to start. 

 

Jack breezes through the terminal, no bags to claim. Cabs line the drive along the arrivals exit and Jack claims the first one in walking distance, giving the hotel address without taking his phone out of his pocket. The details sit fresh in his memory after looking at the message once every ten minutes for the duration of the flight. When he reaches the hotel, he bypasses reception. The idea that a key would have been left for him is not impossible, but given what, from the self-imposed outside was a hurried flight from Toronto, he doubts the foresight involved to make one’s jilted cross country booty call feel welcome was not invoked in this situation. 

After knocking for less than a minute, the door opens. Auston pulls Jack in, hand tight on Jack’s wrist. Jack is pressed against the close door the second it closes, Auston’s mouth hot on his. It’s not a surprise, Jack thinks, that something as unceremonious as his summons would start like this. 

It figures that the message is all he can think about now, the mixture of first excitement at the alert, fading to resentment, confusion, arousal, frustration, in record time. 

**don’t answer**  
Sent 11:18pm, 4.25.18  
_meet me in phoenix._

 

Jack pushes Auston back, anger pulsing through his body for the first time since the first text flashed on his phone. The sudden rush of feeling invigorates Jack, the clearest feeling since the front he mustered on clean out day, beaten down from a season of disappointment. He grabs Auston by the shoulders and guides him over to the couch in the center of the suite. He pauses to look, eyes dragging down Auston’s body, cataloging the changes, the way he favors his side as he settles into the cushions. 

“Anything I should know about?” Jack asks in between stripping off his shirt, shucking his jeans off to the side. Auston cocks his head, shoots back a questioning look, still quiet.

Jack settles on the couch next to Auston, fingers wandering across the plane of Auston’s stomach, pulling at the hem of his shirt. “Are you like, broken anywhere that’s gonna bother you while you take my dick?” 

Auston lets out a hollow laugh and responds with a clipped “no,” his first contribution of the evening. Jack’s eyes bug, irritation evident. He bends down to bite at Auston’s collar bone, teeth sharp. A vague feeling of satisfaction bubbles up in him as Auston hisses when Jack works over the bite marks with his tongue. 

“What’s eating you, asshole?” Jack murmurs into Auston’s neck and pulls back to survey his work. “Not gonna share?” 

Auston rolls his eyes in response and finishes Jack’s abandoned effort to remove Auston’s shirt before sinking to the carpet between Jack’s thighs. He pulls back Jack’s briefs up to the crease of Jack’s thigh and ducks to attach his mouth to the soft skin. Auston works a nasty bruise into the underneath of one before moving to the other, Jack’s hardening cock pressing tight against the band of the briefs. 

Jack lets this proceed until Auston moves to return to the first marked thigh. Jack reaches down, threads a hand through Auston’s hair, wiry and unkempt. _Lost a playoff series and he can’t even wash his fucking hair, figures,_ Jack thinks to himself, nonsensical thoughts racing as his brain searches Auston’s face for any break in Auston’s facade. It’s a habit Jack cultivated throughout the season, watching countless interviews of the Leafs, rehabbing his ankle from his playoff-less home in Buffalo.

“Whatever’s going on in that big head of yours, you wanna at least suck my dick about it?” Jack goades, pushing, waiting for a response from Auston, who pulls back to sink further on to his heels, but remains in his resolute quiet. 

The situation catches up to Jack, slams into him, the absurdity of this trip and the frustrating lack of engagement from Auston. Jack rockets up from his prone position, splayed out against the couch. He takes Auston’s jaw in one hand, pushes his briefs down with the other. 

“What do you want, Auston? Because I have no idea why I’m here.” 

Auston jumps at the use of his full name, startled as if out of a daze. He shakes off Jack’s grip on his jaw and leans forward, braces his hands back on Jack’s thighs, and swallows Jack down. 

Auston works Jack for a few moments until Jack's cock is settled, Auston's lips stretched to take the full length. Once he reaches the base, Auston stops and raises a eyebrow up at Jack. 

“So it’s like that, huh?” 

Auston nods, a slight movement, and then sucks around Jack’s cock before returning to a motionless state. 

Jack sighs in response and settles in. 

 

Jack keeps Auston on his knees, flicking through his phone in order to hold the tense stillness of the moment. He grabs the remote and clicks over to an episode of Game of Thrones he’s been trying to finish. The content isn’t really important, but his understanding is that Auston isn’t up for talking, not up for their usual. After the last year, injury ridden for Auston yet still more fruitful than Jack’s, Jack is content to keep Auston in that space for a while. 

He reaches a hand down, skims across Auston’s face, pressing in on Auston’s cheek and feels his cock through the tightly pulled skin. Jack rubs his thumb across Auston’s flushed skin, feels it as much as he sees it when Auston swallows around his length and stretches down further. 

Jack lets Auston work for a few more quiet moments before meeting Auston’s eyes for the first time in about twenty minutes. Auston’s eyes remain distant, if Jack had to put a name on it, arousal far down the list of descriptors, embarrassment and something unnamed higher than Jack would like when someone spent twenty minutes carefully choking on his dick. 

Jack reaches a hand up to pull at the back of Auston’s hair, extending his neck enough that Auston pulls back, letting Jack’s length slide out to rest on his lips. It’s a sight, arousal pools low in Jack’s belly and it’s all he can do to hold on to some semblance of control. Someone, he thinks to himself not unkindly, has to.

“You ready to move this along? You ignore me for weeks and then have the guts to send a shitty text to get me to fly across the country to get my dick sucked, and now you can’t even work at it?” 

Auston flushes a deeper red, licks wetly at the head of Jack’s length before returning his gaze, eyes clearer than they were seconds ago, clearer than they had been when Jack arrived at the room. 

“So what does that say about you,” Auston retorts, “that you came?” 

Auston ducks back down, works Jack’s length with a hand in addition. After Auston’s careful ministrations, it doesn’t take long before Jack spilling into Auston’s mouth. 

Jack pauses to catch his breath before reaching down towards Auston, visibly hard in his briefs. Auston pulls back, ever so slightly, shaking his head. Jack freezes.

“Aus, look at me.” 

Auston hesitates for a moment before looking up to catch Jack’s eye. 

Jack slinks off the couch, drawing level with Auston. “Are you okay? Was what we just did okay?” 

Auston nods his head, an affirmative. 

“Okay, you know that I’m asking because what you just did was a lot and now you’re not letting me touch you, and that’s not like you.” 

Auston casts his gaze down before responding, barely audible. “Weren’t going to get you to push me around otherwise, so.”

 

Jack feels a flare of anger for the first time since his arrival, finally on the same page as Auston, a place that Auston likely hoped Jack wouldn’t reach.

“Jesus fuck Auston, I didn’t get on a plane so you could use me to punish myself. And since when did you turn into the problem child here. I seem to remember someone telling me that we could cool it a bit during playoffs so I wouldn’t feel sorry about the fact that my boyfriend was playing while I wasn’t.”

Auston winces, cheeks burning red for a different reason, and lets out a sigh before sagging against the couch. He reaches out and wraps his hand around Jack’s ankle, pulling Jack down to rest on the floor. The two sit in silence for a few minutes before Jack makes up his mind and moves to stand. He offers a hand to Auston and pulls him up. 

“Are we done with this martyr shit, Matty? I want to take a bath.” 

 

Jack sinks down into the water, leaning against the broad back of the tub. He pats the lip of the tub, jerking Auston out of another dazed stare. 

“Can you get in already? You’re making me nervous, all this zombie-eyed shit.”

Auston rolls his eyes, but pulls off the last of his clothes before stepping into the tub. He makes to sit across from Jack, drawing another huff from Jack as he reaches out and pulls Auston down towards his own end. 

Jack maneuvers Auston until he’s pressed against Jack’s chest, tension in Auston’s body evident. Jack leans forward, pulling some of the bubbles into Auston’s chest while pressing his lips to the back of Auston’s neck. Jack peppers kisses across Auston’s shoulder blade, following his lips with one hand, rubbing into the tight muscle. He leaves his other hand tangled with Auston’s, pressed against Auston’s chest. 

Auston leans back and turns his head, pressing a kiss to Jack’s bicep in return. 

“I know I like, don’t deserve this, but I’m really fucking sorry, Jack.” 

Jack nods in response, nudges at the back of Auston’s head, waiting for him to continue.

“It wasn’t fair of me to like, assume that you wouldn’t want to hear about what I was doing just because you weren’t playing. Also, it was shitty of me to not see if you needed to talk.”

Jack absorbs this, quiet as Auston when he’d first arrived. 

“‘t’s why I sent that dumb fucking text, you know? Like I knew that I needed to see you, but also that I had fucked up, and I knew you wouldn’t ignore me and I took advantage of that.” 

Jack huffs. “Not just you.” 

Auston turns around, shoulder digging into Jack’s sternum, and fixes him with a glare. 

“No, seriously.” Jack continues, taking in a steadying breath. “Like, I was drinking, after the season ended, after that conversation. I changed your name in my phone to do not answer because I was so worried I was going to blow up at you and like, fuck off your playoff chances that I didn’t bother to like, think about apologizing.” 

Jack reaches a hand up and places it over Auston’s mouth, gentle yet firm. “Let me finish, dude.”

 

Auston nods, smirking around Jack’s hand as he bites at a finger to tell Jack to continue.

“Look, we know I didn’t handle things well, to put it uh, lightly, when I got injured that late in the season. And we already weren’t going to make the playoffs…feel like, when I was wondering how you could be so fucking stupid, that I might’ve given you the idea that I wouldn’t want to hear about what you were doing.” 

Jack’s statement hangs in the air, Jack tightening his grip on Auston’s arm in the passing silence. Auston takes a releases a shuddered breath, inhales again, a labored and wet sound. 

Jack brings both arms around Auston, shushes him while he collects his thoughts. The tail end of this season aches for Jack, recurring injury laying waste to any remaining hope from a bottom finish and a team so devoid of energy. Through the end of the Leafs’ run, Jack bottled the full extend of the hurt Auston’s actions caused, unwilling to touch it until this moment. 

For all the disappointment of the season, the glaring issues with their communication laid bare for observation, there was no other choice in this instance than to move forward. 

Jack steels himself for a long conversation at a later date, reaching his self imposed weighted-conversation limit for the night, and breaks the silence. 

“So next time, when you text your boyfriend for the first time in a month to apologize for how much of an asshole you’ve been, can we get out of this cryptic, one word stuff.”

Auston chuckles, deprecating but thankful for the out Jack presents.

“I know, that was like, messed up.” Auston’s tone lilts at the end, almost a question. “All I could think of was how badly I wanted to see you, and like, obviously we ended the season on a pretty rough note, and with the way things ended I just, didn’t think I’d be able to explain myself.” 

Jack hums in response and reaches forward to adjust the temperature of the bath. For a few minutes, the sound of running water fills the bathroom, echoing off the titles. 

When Jack speaks again, he startles Auston, who lists back against Jack’s chest, exhaustion setting in. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself. Sometimes we’re gonna fuck up. But just like, talk to me. I never get to see you anyway, and I know we’re not great at this stuff, but not hearing from you sucked.” 

Auston pushes himself up, braced on the edge of the tub, and turns to lower himself back down, bracketing Jack. He presses a kiss against Jack’s jawline, working his way up to meet Jack’s lips. 

“Thank you for putting up with me.” 

Jack smiles, an expressive display for the first time all evening. “Eh, there are worst places I could be.” 

 

Auston cries for the first time since the loss as Jack towels him off in the bathroom. Jack gathers Auston into his chest, rubs Auston’s back while Auston sniffles quietly into Jack’s shoulder. 

“I think this has been enough excitement for one day babe, yeah?” Jack punctuates his thought with a kiss to Auston’s forehead.

Auston lets Jack guide him to the bed, Jack guiding him under the sheets, foregoing clothes until the morning. Hardly a priority, now, that Auston’s body releases the built tension in building sobs. 

Auston drifts off, rolled neatly against Jack’s chest, hand a strong grip on the arm Jack tucks behind Auston’s head. Jack counts breaths until Auston’s calm, last remains of a season lost settling off his face as he relaxes into what Jack hopes is a dreamless sleep. 

Maybe, Jack thinks, neither of them believe they deserve it, but it doesn’t mean they can’t take advantage. 

 

Jack wakes early in the morning, exhaustion no match for the slight time difference. Auston meets Jack’s expectation of a deeper, full-body tired and sleeps well into the early afternoon. He joins Jack on the couch in the living room of the suite after lunch, collapsing down on the opposite end of the couch and resting his feet in Jack’s lap. 

“Texted Ema” Jack offers without prompting, not looking up from his phone. 

Auston tenses, discernible only through the places his body is draped across Jack on the lounge. 

“Figured I’d let her know I was in town, making you do some tourist shit with me before we headed over there.” 

Jack continues to type, pausing over a brief article about the Celtic’s chances, holding in all but a brief smile that flits across his face as Auston soaks in the update. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Auston replies. “She should, she’ll see right through it when we get there, knew something was bothering me during playoffs.” 

“What?” Jack presses. “Maybe I want you to take me to see the sites.” 

Auston slumps back against his arm of the couch. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do and I appreciate it. I’m getting better, though, have to face it sometime.” 

Jack’s lack of response causes Auston to start again. “She likes you better than me, so I’ll probably get the riot act bu-”

“Look.” Jack cuts Auston off, phone locked on his lap, eyes more serious than his other lax demeanor. “Whatever gets us home faster, you know? I miss Ema’s cooking, need you back on top of things.”

Auston face startles into a smile, mouth parted in surprise. Jack meets his gaze steady as ever, silence speaking for him, words purposeful. 

“You a desert boy now, Buffalo?” 

Jack declines to reply, choosing instead to toss his phone over to Auston, google maps open on the screen. 

“Come on, Auston, don’t make me lie to Ema. Pick some places I can buy a dumb tourist t-shirt.”

After Jack drags Auston to the hotel gift shop, he lets Auston taken them home. Jack accepts hugs, doles out his own, and eats his weight in Ema’s food. He watches Auston across the table, settling himself as he watches Auston relax in measured incriments, each familiar action as grounding as the next. 

Jack slips on his new tank, outfitted in a bedazzled, camo cactus, and takes Nala for a walk while Auston talks with his mom. He sets an alarm for thirty minutes and sets off around the neighborhood, stopping every ten minutes to pour out water for Nala, to send Jess a picture of the sunset. 

When Nala lays down in the road and refuses to make another lap, Jack ducks back into the house and unleashes her. He climbs the stairs to Auston’s room, leaving the low voices in the living room to themselves. 

Later, Auston slumps into the room, lines of exhaustion a deeper mark than before, eyes rimmed red, an expected outcome. 

“She rough you up a little?” Jack asks, quiet, waiting for Auston to settle on the bed. Auston slides under the blanket and tucks his head under Jack’s. When he speaks again, Auston is close enough that his lips graze against Jack’s neck. 

“She uh, she’s just worried, ya know? Didn’t like how I acted, towards the end of the season.” Auston goes quiet for a minute, swallows loud. Jack turns his head into Auston’s and presses a kiss to Auston’s forehead. 

“Before playoffs started, when um, when we fought, she knew something was wrong and offered to fly up early and spend some time with me. I said no, obviously, and she was just disappointed, I think?” 

Jack cringes, understanding. “I mean, you were under a decent amount of pressure, with or without our inability to like, function.” 

“Yeah, but, I mean, she just, both her and my dad expect a lot from me. They want me to still act like, I don’t know, like a good person, and I think she just, she was upset that she saw me pulling away.”

Jack understands, to an extent, always someone who admired how involved Auston’s parents stayed in his life, as he watched their friends pull away from this type of guidance. He wraps an arm tighter around Auston, squeezes for a moment before rolling away. 

Jack comes back, holding himself over Auston, hands spread wide on the mattress on either side of Auston’s head. He lowers himself down, holding most of his weight, but enough that their chests are flush, that he can feel Auston breathing. 

“Everything okay, though?” Jack remembers to ask. 

Auston grins, a small one, a victory nonetheless, and cranes his neck up to meet Jack.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after.

Auston watches the presser, sees Dubas settle in on Tavares’ side, listens to the praise of the woven narrative, Toronto’s golden prize, prodigal son. He taps an obligatory ‘like’ on Mitch’s tweet, the single emoji encompassing a less foreboding aura than the three eyes Jack texted him earlier in the day.

Auston scrolls down his messages and replies to threads from the team, chest tight. He types out a tweet of his own, quick to act within the first thirty minutes of the official press release. He pictures Simmons, workshopping his next byline, ‘Tension Between Faces of the Franchise? Auston Matthews fails to welcome Tavares.’ 

Jack calls later, unprompted, likely from the jet ski he’d rented for the day, on a lake in the middle of nowhere (‘ _you trained in Boston, you know when Gloucester is Matty, what the hell_ ’) If Auston screens the call, wallowing a stewing mixture of anxiety and frustration, it’s his own business. 

**jack**  
_sucks, man_

Auston rolls his eyes, types back a questioning _yeah?_ before pocketing his phone. He puts in an hour at the gym in his parent’s house, a welcome release of stress, more productive than wallowing or taking a beer to the patio before 1:00pm. 

_yeah_ , the waiting message reads, _they bought u a new fancy center and u cant even be happy abt it, so yeah, sucks._

Auston’s hitting the phone icon next to Jack’s name before he processes the full message, hitting the end call button before it passes the first ring. 

_and here i thought u were only self centerd when it came to ur media, why would i be upset he’s here wtf ??_

He waits, perched at a stool by the breakfast bar, imobile until the answer arrives. 

_exactly, dumbass. or did u forget abt me and the media narrative fucker?_

Auston snorts, tension eased for a moment. _u love mcd, shut up_

Jack takes longer to respond. _sorry, @ dinner w/Jess, call u later??_

Auston sets an alarm on his phone, a reminder to expect a call during his own dinner. He eats before his parents get home and excuses himself from the table, later, guessing Jack’s availability based on his sister’s schedule, buoyed by her weekday nine to five, her husband and a kid. 

Jack’s already spouting off when Auston picks up, fast on the second ring. “You have to know that I would get this, right? Like come on Aus.” 

Auston lays back on his bed, pulling a pillow closer to his body. He curves himself around it, laying down while Jack talks, as if his body was pressed against Jack’s, hundreds of miles away. 

“Sorry for not knowing how to say that I can’t get over myself long enough to be excited that we got like, the biggest fucking stroke of luck. Makes me sound real selfless.”

Jack snorts into the phone and the fondness that blooms across Auston’s chest hurts, a deep ache that flexible schedules during the offseason can never truly fill. 

“Babe, I was drafted the year that like, the leading story was, well, this kid’s good, if only literal jesus wasn’t his age. And then we graduated to whose shit team became less shit first and people went into this season betting that he could win the cup. The fact that Connor and I are the same age changed my whole life and you think I don’t get why the Tavares thing looks bad for you?”

They’re both quiet for a moment, Auston matching Jack’s breathing across the line, an old habit from international competition, when the mixture of nerves and anticipation pulled at Auston, leaning into the familiar arms of team, home, understanding.

Auston breaks the silence. “I mean, Christ, they’ve already asked him like five times if they’re going to give him the C and we haven’t even skated together as a team yet.”

Jack hums to himself, an encouragement to continue rather than a contemplative pause. Auston would believe that Jack knows exactly what he’ll say next, thinks to himself to be thankful for the freedom not to have to explain himself, a freedom rare in the spaces he occupies. 

“I just, things were so bad at the end of this year. I couldn’t get a point to save my life and the second I show a single emotion that wasn’t like, blank acceptance, now I’m fighting with my head coach and everyone thinks there’s a problem in the room.”

“I mean, it could be worse. I apparently got a coach and a GM fired.”

Auston pictures Jack’s face, moving through that sentence, deep in deflection mode, trying his best to get Auston to bite, to defend him, to say something too encouraging that he can turn back against Auston’s insecurity. 

“Do you know how embarrassing it was to have Mike come down here? Like I’m the problem child? And how we have like, one of the best centers in hockey on our team, and all I can think about is how much worse it’s going to look for me if I’m not performing.” 

“Auston,” Jack interjects, voice strained. “Where’s the guy I saw last month who couldn’t stop talking about how you don’t owe the beats any medical information and about how the whole team shit the bed?” 

Auston doesn’t respond. Jack’s pushing back for a reason, one Auston gave him, but if Jack could just understand that nothing feels more pressing tha—

“What are you doing for the fourth? Can you come up?” 

Auston is stunned into silence for a moment, the line quiet. 

“Or uh, not? If you’re busy or you like need space, it’s fine dude.” The implication that Auston needs space, already guilty of cutting off contact for fabricated stressors in the spring, startles him to action.

“Fuck, yeah, of course I can come out Jack, what?” 

Jack chuckles and pauses for a moment. The sound of a tab pops in the background and Jack’s voice comes back clearer. “You sound miserable Matty, and like, what’s the point of dating a professional sports player when you’re not making expensive purchases to like, pamper me cross country.”

“Oh that’s what you want, huh?” 

 

**Aus**  
_tavares wants to meet with me in person._  
_what are we doing after the 4th?_  
_should i go to toronto while im here?_  


if you want??  
this is supposed to be a Fun vacation matty.  
gonna suck ur brain out thru ur dick, maybe u want to wait so JT thinks ur literate  


**Aus**  
 _‘thinks ur literate’ great spelling there, champ_  
 _no but really shoudl i go right after?_  
 _better than flying across the country twice_

make him come to u in AZ  
power Move 

  


**Aus**  
_Jack seriously ._

 

nah ur right, it’s a good idea to do it now while ur already here  
did he say what he wants to talk abt? 

**Aus**  
_not really._  
_but mitch got lunch with him last week, says it was just like a check in about the team_  
_following up a little from what we talked about during the pitches_  


 

are u gonna bring up the Thing. 

**Aus**  
_??_

 

“oh uh, JT, listen, no worries but also,  
i’m wicked interested to hear whether  
or not ur trying to run me out of town with the toronto boy squad.  
xox Auston Matthews”  


**Aus**  
_ur a regional and a dumb sports stereotype are u Proud of that?_

 

fuck off!! im right and u know!  
Matts  
Matty  
Mattington  
AUsotn  
babe, Babe  
Anyway text me ur flight info  
maybe ill cum with to TO  
;) 

 

Jack Eichel _@Jackeichel15_ : Happy 4th of July! Proud to represent this country on and off the ice. 

Auston Matthews _@AM34_ : .@Jackeichel15 “this week, wednesday is for America but for one time only, it’s also for the boys” #happyfourth 

 

https://www.torontasaurus.sbnation.com/sports/stars-align%-%-the-leafs-may-already-be-proving-us-wrong/2018/15/7/obeu67-fiefi45_story.html?ut 

**Stars Align: The Leafs May Already Be Proving Us Wrong**  
Leafs fans are accustomed to a pointed level of scrutiny pointed towards this team, but coming off another disappointing playoff effort, all eyes turn to the offseason. The addition of centerman Jonathan Tavares, an unlikely grab and stand up effort from the young GM, Kyle Dubas, rocketed the Leafs to the highest odds to win the Stanley Cup this week. 

So then, Leafs fans, as with any headliner move comes the speculative questions. It’s why we blog, so let’s get into it: Do we see phenomenal success within the next three years? Does the cornerstone of this team, Auston Matthews, fall into a supporting role, or have the Leafs finally found their one-two punch of elite centermen? While it’s too early for accurate projection into the next season, fans are seeing a ray of hope emerge. While Mike Babcock took the time earlier this off-season to visit with both Auston Matthews and Frederick Andersen, rumored in an effort to smooth over any lingering tensions from the Leafs’ series against the Bruins, a different type of meeting came to town.

Over the weekend, Leafs young superstar, and focus of a wave of playoff performance criticism, Auston Matthews, was spotted on multiple occasions over the last two days with John Tavares. Readers and writers at this very blog spotted the pair at… 

_(It looks like you viewed five free articles this month. Subscribe for today for 30% off for unlimited access to Toronto Maple Leafs news. Use promo code: Summer Ice)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having this sudden inspo & projection onto this universe so this uh, may be continually updated (am I already writing an additional epistolary section based on jack's insta from today.....maybe... 
> 
> drop a line, let me know what you thought, can also prompt a bit


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Jack**  
>  i was trying to think of like  
> a good joke  
> and all i could think of was like 
> 
> i want ur autograph on my dick  
> which is uh, an embarrasment
> 
> **Aus**   
>  _stunning_   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to get my head back in this 'verse, so I can work on adding some scenes per the events of the start of the szn - please enjoy some brief Off Szn Reflections

**Jack Eichel** _@jackeichel11_ New season, old number. 

**Darren Dreger** _@DarrenDreger_ : During our sitdown interview, Mike Babcock said Marleau, Tavares and Reilly will wear a letter for the Maple Leafs this season.

**Kristen Shilton** _@kristen_shilton_ Auston Matthews in fine form this morning at his media day scrum. Q: “do you have any personal goals for this season?” A: “yeah. they’re personal.” #micdrop

 

-

gotta get you a new jersey, now

  
_yeah, god forbid my eichel  
sabres jersey is out of date  
how will i live_

aussssss  
babe 

  
_look, my offer still stands_

__

_you know what u have to do  
to get me to wear that monstrosity _

look all im saying is that i will  
suck ur dick anyway  
not sure why i have to wear a gd  
leafs jersey to do it 

-

my mom wants to know if you  
want to come out here before  
preseason? not sure what  
ur schedy is?

  
_uh we can probably do dinner?  
can she text ema and ask her? _

_cant remember when they’re coming up  
and im out rn _

sounds Good, yeah 

-

_hi,,m LOV e u_

  
auston, its cute that ur  
so dumb, ncaa would have  
been so good for u 

_We ARe maybe Drink_

  
who u out with? 

_barz here for promo shit_

  
Good, tell him i say hi  
if u can remember that many  
minutes into the future rn

_Sh tut up_

 

-

_a dumb and funny thing would_  
_be me inviting u to our players only_  
_bbq to welcome JT_

  
wtf????

_like, ‘welcome back to the GTA, im_  
_fucking our once divisional rival’_

  
so uh, I’m not really sure what  
the goal of this was, but i feel  
like we could start at like, the part where  
u describe our relationship as Fucking

or the fact that uh, you don’t ahve  
to talk shit about own my team to me  
im Well aware 

is this some kind of like

are we having the conversation again

is this you trying to make this into a  
thing again

Jesus fuck, Auston, pick up your phone

-

I’m having a freak scheduling thing,  
won’t make the SS game for Larks

  
_Fuck dude, are you serious_

I know, i have a family  
thing and then something with management  
in Buff and I realy can’t cancel

I’m so sorry baby 

I know this is important to all of us

  
_:(  
is it bad that im more  
upset that I don’t get to see you_

no.

same. 

-

_picking you up in 5_

  
im at arrivals for Delta  
the shittiest of companies  
ur shitty bf and his Demon plane company

_maybe the nicest thing you’ve_  
 _ever said abt yourself_

  
dont quit ur day job  
for anything that requires u to have  
an intelligent thought 

_interesting that we’re not having_  
 _sex at all during your visit :)_

_see u soon_

  
Coward

-

_did you know_  
_abt what Lehner was going thru_  
_last year_

  
not fully  
knew there was like, a substance thing  
team was pretty hush abt it  
room was already shit enough 

_do you ever think about like_  
 _idk if we’re good enough_  
 _for people in th e room?_  
 _are we making things worse for people_

  
where is this coming from?  
do u think there’s someone on the leafs  
in a similar situation 

_You’re gonna be mad._

  
wow, he goes for the  
proper grammar 

matty? 

_ive been thinking about_  
 _doing it, again_

_i know we said no_  
_but idk_  
_I mean, I know i can’t right now_  
_we’re not in a solid situation yet_  
_i’d be so bad_

  
ok, 

Fuck i mean, Look  
we talked about this  
you’re repeating exactly what i said  
and you still want to 

_I think so, yeah_

  
why didnt you bring this up  
when i was with u last week

_idk, it was one of the last_  
 _times i was gonna see you_  
 _before the start of the season_

_didn’t seem like the time to fight_

_i think i know i want to tell them_  
_but i dont actually know how it will go_  
_and now that like, there’s more_  
_leadership group shit, with a guy_  
_i dont fucking know,_  
_its not making me any more eager?_  
_but i wanted to,_

  
So bc you wanted to do it before you  
still do? 

look, we should talk more abt this  
now that you’re actually contributing  
to the convo 

_fuck off_

  
but i still dont want to tell  
my guys

i dont think its a good time  
we were so fucked last year  
if anything goes wrong  
and they can blame me  
they will 

_Jack, seriously_

  
no, u know im right

look its off the table for me, but  
if you still want to do this when camp  
starts, talk to me abt it  
instead of pulling this bs

love u matty

_love you_

-

cagey matty, i like it

  
_it was stupid._

nah man, u know u need to keep it light w/em 

  
_cant wait til its screenshotted in a  
article abt my attitude problems in Dec_

make it nov and I’ll put money on it? 

  
_damn, not even sex??? im fucked and im not even  
gonna get fucked_

-

that shoot out move  
DAyu mm 

_you reading my press, eichs_

_want an autograph?_

  


sorry for not responding  
for like three hrs 

i was trying to think of like  
a good joke  
and all i could think of was like 

i want ur autograph on my dick  
which is uh, an embarrasment

_stunning_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, your Thots are appreciated. much love for both of these dummies and their garbage teams

**Author's Note:**

> I v enjoyed filling this prompt (sending love @ poppyseedheart who is truly a gem) - I had, time permitting (which it did not) plans to do a bit more with this, so for now we'll live in this deep angst pool of boys who cannot communicate and maybe they'll eventually get off that couch and take Jack to see some cacti 
> 
> Please let me know if you feel anything should be tagged differently and as always, would love to hear your thots


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